Knighthood with an Axe
by CypressWand
Summary: Short story on how Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington nearly lost his head. STORY: COMPLETE


**Knighthood with an Axe**

'Your majesty!' cried Nicholas. 'Sir! There is something I must speak to you about!'

With an elegant twist on the balls of his feet, King Henry the Seventh turned around and looked Nicholas in the eyes with a raised eyebrow. 'How may I help you, Mister...?'

'Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington,' said Nicholas. His chest puffed out with pride. 'Sir, it's about your son, Henry. He's been showing odd signs of —'

'I've been warned about you,' interrupted King Henry. 'You're said to be quite an odd one. I have heard rumours that you have an extensive knowledge on the subject of witchcraft.'

'And I'm afraid your son might be showing signs as well, Sir,' said Nicholas with a polite bow. 'If I may be so —'

King Henry laughed and waved it off. 'There is nothing to fear. I know my son is in good health. That's all that matters.'

Nicholas could tell that King Henry knew more than he was letting on but decided not to argue with a man of his position, changing the subject instead. 'Sir, there's something else that I wish to discuss with you.'

'And what may that be, Mister de Mimsy-Porpington?'

'It's about my knighthood, Sir,' said Nicholas, feeling a blush start to appear on his cheeks. 'Tomorrow, on All Hallows' Eve. Will there still be a ceremony?'

...o0o...

'You worked for the Royal Court?' asked Hermione with a tone of surprise. 'You actually worked and lived among Muggles?'

'You were beheaded on the day you were supposed to be knighted?' asked Harry, his curiosity growing. He hadn't been pleased to find himself sitting next to Hermione Granger for breakfast, but he had soon found himself immersed in the story despite himself. 'Does that mean you're actually not a Sir?'

'What's a knighthood?' asked Ron, looking confused.

Sir Nicholas's head was dangling sadly from his nearly severed neck. 'Oh, yes, Miss Granger, I used to work for the Royal Court for none other than King Henry the Seventh himself. His son, Henry the Eighth, was born only a year prior to my death. And no, Mister Potter; I am still considered a Knight of Honour to the English throne.'

'I still don't get this whole knighthood thing,' said Ron after he swallowed a large piece of chicken. 'What's the big deal about it?'

Sir Nicholas pushed his head back onto his neck and looked Ron dead in the eye. 'Being a Knight of Honour in the world of the Muggles is just as important as being the recipient of an Order of Merlin in the wizarding world, Mister Weasley. It was, and always will be, a very big deal to me.'

Hermione noticed the frustration boiling up inside Sir Nicholas and decided to change the sensitive subject as quickly as possible. 'But what exactly was the reason they went from granting you a knighthood to chopping off your head within the span of a day?'

...o0o...

Rays of sunlight shimmered through the red leaves that adorned the Royal Courtyard. In the distance, Nicholas watched a lady take a stroll, sniffing the few flowers that were fighting for their existence as the weather turned cold. Collecting his Gryffindor courage, he strutted down the steps and asked politely to join her company.

'Lady Grieve,' she had said, one hand holding a fan that was covering her mouth. 'And who may be the gentleman who is about to accompany me on my walk through the gardens?'

'The name is Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington,' said Nicholas with a bow and a kiss on her hand. 'I am very pleased to meet you, Lady Grieve. But may I ask, why will you not show me the face that matches your lovely voice?'

Lady Grieve's eyes turned away in sadness. 'I'm afraid it is because I am ashamed. Ashamed of my — of my teeth.'

'Then it must be fate that you and I have met this very morning,' said Nicholas. 'For I can perform — _magic_ — on anything that might bring the lady discomfort.'

'Magic, you say?' giggled Lady Grieve. 'Are you telling me that you can perform magic tricks?'

'As it so happens, I am a highly skilled magician,' said Nicholas with a bow. 'Please, allow me, for there is nothing to be ashamed of.'

Slowly, Lady Grieve moved the fan away from her face. At first, nothing appeared to be out of the ordinary — until the corners of her mouth turned into a smile and her large, hideous, crooked teeth defiled the softness of her rosy cheeks.

'It's horrendous, I know,' said Lady Grieve, sounding as if there were a lump in her throat. 'I am so ashamed to smile. So ashamed … '

Nicholas took both of her hands in his and smiled a rather crooked smile himself. 'There is nothing that I cannot fix for you, my dear Lady Grieve.'

…o0o...

'She grew tusks!' sputtered Ron. 'Tusks! No wonder she —'

'Be quiet, Ronald,' snapped Hermione. 'It's perfectly normal to make silly little mistakes like that. You were about to fix it, right? Weren't you, Sir Nicholas?'

Sir Nicholas shook his head and sighed. 'Unfortunately, I did not find out until the very evening of my knighthood. The entire Royal Court was there to see it. I had already knelt down on one knee. I felt the cold blade of the sword touching one of my shoulders when suddenly Lady Grieve came popping out nowhere, screaming hysterically. If only King Henry's son, little Henry, hadn't been there.'

'Are you saying your — you know — head is because of _the_ Henry the Eighth?' asked Harry, his plate of kipper lying forgotten.

'Little Henry must've gotten scared when he saw her,' said Sir Nicholas. 'You couldn't blame the little tyke, of course. Seeing a woman screaming hysterically while two enormous tusks were growing out of her mouth would have given anyone quite a fright. She kept screaming; "Off with his head! Off with his head!" Little Henry must have understood that, since he had been present at many a beheading before. Then, the thing I had tried to warn King Henry about the day before actually happened.'

Hermione gasped and clapped her hands in front of her mouth. 'Henry the Eighth was a wizard, wasn't he?'

'More of a Squib, really,' said Sir Nicholas. 'The last time he ever performed magic was the day he turned that sword into an axe. And a blunt one to boot! I got hit with it, time and time again. Unfortunately, I was already dead before they were able to chop off my entire head. If only I was able to put my head down wherever I wanted to …'

'Does this mean the royal family has magical blood, though?' asked Hermione. 'That would be quite curious as they don't rule over the wizarding world.'

'The last member of the family who attended Hogwarts was Mary the First,' said Sir Nicholas with a shrug. 'Though she was better known as Bloody Mary. Daughter of Henry the Eighth. After that, they have been nothing but Squibs. Perhaps that's the reason why they prefer not to meddle with the wizarding world.'

'Fascinating,' mumbled Hermione. 'Thank you for telling us your story, Sir Nicholas.'

'Yes, thank you for that,' added Harry. 'How long has it been since your death day?'

'It's been exactly four hundred and ninety-nine years to the day,' said Sir Nicholas proudly. 'Next year, I plan on throwing a party, and all three of you will be invited.'

'Thanks for that,' said Ron, not sounding too happy with the idea at all. 'Do remind us when the time comes.'

'I most certainly will,' said Sir Nicholas happily. 'It's time for me to move on to different matters. And Mister Potter — Harry — do be careful on this Hallowe'en day, as is a strange time for all of us. Especially for you.'


End file.
